


How Arya Stark Accidentally Became Lady Baratheon

by sallyslittlelamb



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, Implied Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Queen Daenerys, at least until s8e3, like a single grain of angst, mostly fluff tho, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-23 19:30:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18708532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sallyslittlelamb/pseuds/sallyslittlelamb
Summary: After the Battle for Kingslanding and Daenerys claims the Iron Throne, Gendry is legitimized and made lord of Storms End. Instead of returning North Arya chooses to go with Gendry to teach him how to be a lord.





	How Arya Stark Accidentally Became Lady Baratheon

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to my beta reader tumblr user [thebull-and-thewolf](%E2%80%9Dthebull-and-thewolf.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D) for telling me my work doesn't suck. You a real one.

After the War of the Dawn and the Battle for King’s Landing, the Dragon Queen offers to legitimize Gendry. Cersei Lannister lives no longer, having been sentenced to death by new Queen and executed by Arya, and the North had succeeded in its quest for independence from the remaining six kingdoms. Jon promises Daenerys the Iron Throne is hers and will remain hers uncontested if she granted the North their freedom and legitimizes him as Ned Stark's trueborn son. Gendry's own legitimization is solely for the purpose of tying up loose ends. Gendry is distraught. He had pledged his fealty to the Starks, to the King in the North. But Jon urges him to accept the Dragon Queen’s offer. 

"I cannot give you claim to your ancestral house because it's not a part of my kingdom. I can't offer you your father's name because it is of the South. This is your chance to restore your house and I cannot ask you to walk away from your future family." My family is of the North he thinks to himself but says nothing further. 

A day after his legitimization, she finds him in his chambers. He's sitting at the desk in the room provided for him by the Dragon Queen inside the Red Keep. He figures that since he's a lord now, it was probably improper for him to continue to sleep in the smithy. His head is buried in his hands when he gets the sense that there are eyes watching him. He picks his head up and she's there smirking, probably knowing he hadn't heard her come in. 

"My lord." She greets teasingly. 

"Please don't call me that." 

"Why not? It's what you are now." 

"I'll always be a bastard from Flea Bottom no matter what any piece of paper says." he spits out bitterly. Arya's playful smirk freezes on her face, her eyes wide with shock. "What am I doing? I don't know anything about being a lord or running a household, least of all a kingdom. This was never supposed to be me! I've no experience!" She comes forward and embraces him while he buries his head into her stomach. 

"Gendry as long as I've know you I always thought you were better than all those little lordlings. You're a hero to the realm, an accomplished soldier in the War of the Dawn. Compared to all you've been through, being Lord of Storms End should be easy." 

"Crushing wights is different than running a castle and arming the living with weapons is different than offering protection to my subjects." 

She sighed and ran her fingers through his shortly cropped hair. "You won't be alone you know. My brother is releasing Ser Davos from his position and naming my sister his new Hand. He will be free to advise you. You'll have what's left of House Baratheon's bannermen and I-" she inhales softly and Gendry freezes. He feel the first petals of hope begin to blossom in his chest. "I'll help." She finishes quietly. "I'll help you learn how to run a castle, how to make decisions best fitted for you and your people, even how to escape the pressures of highborn life, even if it's only for an afternoon." 

Gendry slowly pulls back enough to look up at her face. She attempts to conceal her emotion behind that flat mask of hers, but her eyes reveal a sort of caution. Gendry can tell she’s worried that she's exposed herself to much. He swallows the ache in his throat from all the words he would not say. Not yet, at least. "You want to come with me?" He asks, hope coloring his tone and making the mask on her face soften. 

She looks away and speaks carefully. "It will only be for a little while. Until you feel secure in your abilities as a lord and don't need me anymore." What if I never feel like a lord? he wants to ask, what if I always need you? Instead he stands and claims her lips in a searing kiss. Then he takes her to bed.

-

The weeks before she is set to travel to Storms End is spent almost entirely in the company of her siblings. When she tells them of her plan to travel separately from them to Winterfell, they are suspicious. When she tells them why, they feel betrayed. 

Jon is frightened for her, so he screams and shouts about the consequences of the last time the Starks remained South, how they're stronger together and how she is abandoning her duty as Princess in the North when her people needed her most. She screams and shouts in return, about his lack of faith in her, his disregard of everything she’s done for her people, for the realm, and how Gendry is her best friend and most trusted ally. "I've left a trail of bodies behind me of anyone who prevented me from returning home and I'd gladly do it again. This separation will not be permanent. A Starks place will always be Winterfell." After that they argue no more. 

Sansa's reaction is somehow worse. She does not object to Arya's decision to remain South but anytime they are together she clings and clutches at any part of her she can get her hands on. Sometimes Arya catches her watching, tears hidden deep behind her eyes and she's forced to remember the horrors her sister went through the last time they were separated. Arya has to look away before the guilt consumes her. 

The Dragon Queen only raised her silver eyebrow when she finds out the youngest Stark sister will be remaining South and shrugs her shoulder delicately. She says something about House Baratheon being reborn through the ghost of its last mistake. No one bothers to correct her.  
The plan is for Ser Brienne, Ser Jaime, and Ser Podrick to escort the King in the North and his Hand back to their brother Bran in Winterfell, along with the remainder of the northern army, where they will continue negotiating trade relations with the Crown in the South. Only her, Ser Davos, Gendry, and the Hound will journey to Storms End. 

When Sandor Clegane first propositioned becoming her sworn sword, Arya laughed. "I'm the protector of the realm. What need do I have for a sworn sword?"

"While it's not cute to brag I have to say that I agree. You're quieter now so as far as I'm concerned being your sworn sword is the easiest job in all of Westeros." He replied gruffly. She simply laughed again and challenged him to a sparring match. She won but only just and accepts his offer.

When it was time for her and her siblings to part ways she hugs her brother fiercely and kisses her sister's cheek. A small part of her felt anxious about being away from them again after only just reuniting it seems, but she promises herself that this will not be the last time the remaining Starks will see each other again. The next day the small company heading for Storms End departs. 

Being on the road again with Gendry and the Hound gives Arya a peculiar sense of nostalgia. She grew up on these roads with these men, her experiences with them as different as night and day. Still if pressed, she would consider both of them to be her closest companions on the Kingsroad. 

At the beginning they didn't even bother with inns and taverns just swiftly plodded their way through the country, resting whenever and wherever they wanted. This newfound peace throughout the land made Arya feel uneasy at first. The entirety of her time on the kingsroad as a child, and then once again as a woman grown, had been during wartime. She finds herself looking for danger in every corner. Weeks pass like this and while Arya doesn't exactly relax, her cautions became less urgent.

One afternoon, while the Hound and Gendry were off collecting firewood and Arya and Ser Davos were attending to the horses, he speaks directly to her for the first time ever. "Why didn't you return North with your brother and sister your highness?" She makes a face and scoffs.

"Please do not call me your highness. Do I look any higher than the rest of you lot?" She asks as she cleans the muck beneath her horses shoes. He remains silent, waiting for her to answer. "He's a friend Ser Davos. My best friend in fact. He needed help and I was able to assist so here I am."

"And how did you know each other?" 

"He hasn't already told you?" He simply shrugs and continues to watch her with those watery eyes of his. She stops what she’s doing to gaze back at him, hoping he would avoid her eye and drop the subject completely. He does not. "I was with him when the Brotherhood sold him to the Red Witch. We had travelled from Kings Landing together for years prior to that moment. He was the only person who knew my true identity and he helped me keep it secret. I thought of us as family." Something like understanding clouds Ser Davos' face and he returns his attention back to his task. 

They work in silence for a time before he speaks up once more. "When we travelled to Winterfell from the Wall he would say your name in his sleep sometimes.” Arya drops the hand she was using to hold her horse’s leg steady. “I thought nothing of it, not even after we arrived in Winterfell to find you were there. Didn't put it together until I saw the two of you, after the War of the Dawn. Not my fault of course. I'm a simple man and he never spoke about you." 

Arya clenches her jaw and swallows. She turns her back on Ser Davos and begins to sort through the food they have left in order to give herself time to reign in her emotions. "I believe he thought me dead.” She replies. “Shortly after he was sold I was kidnapped by Sandor Clegane to be ransomed to my brother, Robb. We travelled to the Twins just in time to witness my family's massacre. People saw us heading that way together and assumed I was present at the Red Wedding and therefore was slaughtered as well." 

He walks back into her line of sight and begins to place rocks around the edge of the hole they'd dug for the fire. He nods his head absentmindedly and worked his jaw before saying. "So he mourned you." 

"Perhaps." She answers stoically. 

"Mourned you enough to never talk about you, but still call your name in his sleep." Arya's ears burned and her heart thudded in her chest. 

"What exactly are you trying to say Ser Davos?" She asks him cooly.

"If your highness wishes me to be frank, I believe Gendry thought of you as family as well." He stated matter of factly. To this she could not reply and remained speechless until the Hound returned with his armful of firewood. Gruffly he muttered, "What's for dinner tonight. I'm fucking starving." 

-

As they travel closer to Storms End they tire of sleeping on the ground and being exposed to the elements. As the Hound so eloquently put it, "If I have to sleep one more night outside, I'll slit all of your throats and then my own." So they began sleeping at inns. 

They always paid for two rooms. One for the Hound, Ser Davos, and Gendry to share and one for Arya. This was not how they slept. Every night after the Hound and Ser Davos retired to their room, Arya dragged Gendry to bed and didn't let him leave until morning. After the first two nights Gendry stopped trying to leave. 

It was three days out of Storms End that he finally acknowledged the impropriety of it all. "We shouldn't be doing this Arya." His body was spent and he lounged bonelesly against her side, his head pillowed against her hip. On the other hand, Arya was all pent up energy. She sat up against the bedpost, breast exposed to the world, doing knife tricks over and over again with a small dagger she always kept on her person. 

When he spoke her fingers fumbled with the knife for a split second before continuing in fluid harmony. "And why is that?" She asks cheekily. 

"What if you become with child?" He asks with a small voice. This time she abruptly pauses the twirling of the dagger around her fingers. 

Carefully she says, "That won't happen." 

They'd been apart for almost as long as they had been together back when they were children but sometimes, if he was lucky, he could still read her. He knows, through her stiff posture and calm placid face, that she's not saying something. He traces the scars across her stomach. 

"Is it because of these?" She glances down to look at his face, her eyes barely concealing the shock she feels at him putting together what she wouldn't, couldn't, say. She sets her dagger down on the stool beside the bed and shifts to face more towards him. 

"Partially." She sighs, "I've also taken up drinking moon tea as an extra precaution." 

"What's that?" he asks. 

"It stops the seed from taking root." She answers simply. The entire time he had not stopped running his fingers over the white marks scattered across her belly. He leans closer and places a kiss on one near her belly button and Arya closes her eyes and sighs. 

"Will you ever tell me what happened to you?" He asks her quietly. 

"Yes." she sighs. He's quiet, waiting, but it seems she has nothing else to add. 

"Will you tell me tonight?" He ventures, even if he feels he knows the answer already. She shuffles down until they lay facing one another. He cups her cheek and she places a delicate kiss on the mound where his thumb meets his palm. Look at that he thinks to himself, she can be gentle.

"Ask me again tomorrow." She tells him before running her hand down his stomach, her fingers disappearing beneath the covers.

-

 

When they arrive in Storms Ends more than one face turn ashen as the believe they are seeing the ghosts of Robert Baratheon and Lyanna Stark. Whether this is the reason Gendry's bannermen welcome them warmly into the castle and, more importantly, their hearts can neither be confirmed nor denied. 

The first few weeks are dizzying at best for Gendry and borderline torture at worst for Arya. Upon their arrival he's presented with a small parade of the lesser lords and ladies that have been managing the Stormlands for generations, lands he had suddenly found himself completely responsible for. Never had he felt more like a fraud. After that, he was forced to dive straight into his lordly duties, of which there were many. While winter was coming to a close, it was a bitter end, and the food storage areas needed to be fortified. There was also the matter of redistribution of lands as many houses had gone extinct during the several wars that ripped through Westeros over the years. He was encouraged to create a council of lords who would summarize the politics of his lands that would help him develop an understanding to this foreign territory he had inherited but never known. 

Arya for her part never wanted to be a lady, but in this castle she could not escape the truth of her birth status. Worse yet she felt as if she could not deny it as she wished to. Arya feared it would reflect poorly on Gendry's ability to rule if he were to receive council from an improper lady. Unbeknownst to her, but quite clear the Gendry, her fears were baseless. The people of Storms End loved her, as her reputation as the realm’s protector preceded her, and he is held in good standing for being able to convince the wild wolf girl of the North to shed her winter coat and impart her wisdom on their small kingdom in the South. 

He finds himself wishing she were here to stay, to rule the Stormlands at his side as his lady, but he could never ask that of her. So he takes her council and her bed readily, knowing she will not be there with him forever.

In Storms End, they are more careful with their coupling than they had been on the road, at Gendry's insistence. He did not wish for others to consider Arya as his lady only to feel abandoned after she eventually returns to the North or worse yet, for her to be judged as a ruined lady who did not deserve opportunities or respect. So in the public eye it appeared that he was only courting the wolf princess, as they spent nearly all their time together. They broke their fast together, sparred in the courtyard together, and when the new lord of Storms End needed his escape, he would turn to the smithy and he would do so also in her company. 

At night though, Arya used her assassins skills to sneak away into his chambers and sneak away again before the dawn, leaving the young lord wrung out, covered in scratches and tender love bruises much to his satisfaction.

-

One morning on her way to the Gendry's solar she came across Ser Davos in what looked to be a troublesome conversation with one of the lesser lords on Gendry's council. She considered creeping closer to eavesdrop but the discussion ended soon after. Ser Davos walked off toward the direction of Gendry's solar and she speed her pace so she could walk beside him. 

"Is there something I should know about Ser Davos?"

He flinches in surprise, "Lady Arya how many times have I begged you not give an old man like me such a fright, I'm barely hanging on as it is!" 

She laughed and apologized for sneaking up on him. In the weeks she'd been at Storms End, Arya and Ser Davos had became close friends. She had managed to get him to stop referring to her as your highness but he continued to call her a lady, a habit she felt confident she could break with enough time. "I saw you conversing with Lord Bartholomew, it looked to be a bit tense. Is everything alright?" 

"Aye perhaps it wasn't smooth waters. The lords of the Stormlands believe it is time for Gendry to obtain a lady wife. They wish him to produce heirs within the year." Arya's mouth grew dry and she worked hard to not let any emotion show on her face. 

She swallowed the dryness away and asked quietly, "Do you think it best to present this issue to the Lord Paramount?" 

"You don't?" he asks incredulously. 

"No I believe it will only distract him from how far he's come with all he's learned in these weeks as a lord. Pleasing a lady wife, producing an heir, and running the Stormlands is quite a lot of responsibility for a newly minted lord to handle within their first year. I think he needs more time in order to feel confident enough in his lordly duties before he splits his attention like that." Please give us more time, she begs silently.

"I find that your logic cannot be argued my lady but I am not sure how much time the Stromlords are willing to give." They stop just before entering Gendry's solar and face one another. Ser Davos must be able to read the unspoken plea in her eyes because his soften and he nods his head in silent agreement. That night Arya does not visit Gendry's chambers. She also stops drinking moon tea.

-

 

For six weeks she does not take him to bed. She still allows him to kiss her, sweetly or passionately or hungrily. He can feel the difference in their kisses though, knows they're living on borrowed time, and mourns that she is pulling away from him. He's not stupid, no matter how much as she likes to claim he is. He knows she still writes to her sister and can only imagine how much she longs to be reunited with her pack, to feel the snow on her face. 

She's different with him as well. Their time together used to be peaceful and full of exasperated fondness on her end and playful teasing on his. Now there is always tension in the air, filled with the things they won't talk about. Sometimes he thinks he can taste the despair on her tongue. I wish we had more time. 

Gendry finds himself spending more and more time in the smithy beating away his frustrations. He laments his eternal bad fortune. When he was a nobody bastard from Flea Bottom he couldn't have her as his family. And now that he's a lord in his own right he cannot have her as his lady. He waits days in anxious agony for her to tell him that she's leaving and when she walks into the forge, with determined steps, he believes his wait is finally over. He was slightly mistaken. 

"The lords want you to hurry up and marry someone so you can produce some heirs." She all but shouts at him. He stops hammering the hot steel, one arm raised above him. 

"What?" He asks. 

"The Stormlords want you to give them an heir. They're going to present you with your options of eligible ladies at tonight's council." He steps away from the anvil and hangs his hammer up before removing his smock. He rubs his hands together, soot smearing smoothly over his skin. 

"Are you…” he starts, “Is this the reason why we haven't...?" She squints her eyes at him. 

"Gendry, I just told you that by this time next year you are expected to be a husband and a father and the first thing you think about is why we haven't fucked in a while?" 

He swallows harshly. "Well to be honest that's really the only part I care about." 

"How can you say that?" She criticizes.

"Because I won't be a husband or a father next year if I can help it." She narrows her eyes once again and crosses her arms in front of her chest. 

"What is that suppose to mean?" She bites out. 

"It means I won't marry anyone off that list the Stormlords plan to present to me." 

"Gendry think about what you are saying. This is part of your lordly duties. An heir will help secure your position as Lord of Storms End." 

"Who's going to contest my position? I am the last living heir to House Baratheon-" she storms over and shoves at his chest. 

"That's exactly my point! This is about the future of your house Gendry!" 

"And all that shit about lordly duties is just that. Shit! You have never once cared about your duties as a lady so why do you care about what I do as a lord all of a sudden!” he bellows loudly.  
The look she gives him makes him shudder inside and he fears he's about to join House Frey and the Night King. "How dare you!” She growls, “I have fought and bled for my house! Don't you dare say I've never cared about my duties as a lady!" 

"But you wouldn't marry for them." Arya looks stricken and blinks at him. "You looked at your lot in life and said fuck it I'm going to make my own rules and you did. How can you expect me to do any less than that?" 

Her eyes widen with horror. She stumbles back and murmurs, "This was a mistake. I shouldn't have come here." 

He steps forward in a panic and grips her shoulders before she can run away. "Look Arya, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled. I'm glad you told me, honest-" 

"Not here here you idiot bull, I mean here in Storms End." His breath leave him with a gust of air and he steps away as if she's pushed him back with her own two hands. "I should have stayed away." She continues. "I'm not a good highborn you're right. I would never marry for my house, would have ran away before they could make me but Gendry, you were suppose to be better than me!" Then suddenly she starts crying, tears flowing while she tries to choke back the sobs that want to escape her small body. 

Gendry returns to her side and places both hands on her cheeks, wiping her tears away. "Arya what are you talking about? You are the best of the lot." He smiles gently. She shakes her head and looks down at their feet. 

"No, you are right. I've never cared about my duties, not as a lady, not as a princess." She says thickly. "Sometimes I find myself thinking-" she sucks in a sharp breath and sobs harder. Gendry wraps her in his arms and smooths her hair, shushing her tears while she crys on his bare chest. 

"What is it?" He whispers, "You can tell me." 

After a moment, she quiets down and glances at him from underneath her eyelashes. "I find myself thinking that I don't want to go back to the North. I want to stay her with you."

At her confession something inside Gendry breaks. He'd thought he'd been so careful not to let himself fall for this warrior princess, knowing that they would part, believing she could never care for him as much as he cared for her. But he just hid the truth from himself. He had been in love with her since the first time they reunited at Winterfell. His blood rushed loudly in his ears and felt warmth spread through his entire body. For the first time in his life, Gendry felt at peace. 

Still wrapped in his arms, oblivious to the revelation he had just come to, Arya continued to speak. "But you need heirs and I can't give them to you, and if I marry you I could be jeopardizing the North's newfound freedom and I don't know how-" he kisses her quiet. 

"Arya, I'm in love with you." He whispers against her lips. She shifts away slightly to look him in the eyes. She must see the truth in what he says because fresh tears spring up in her eyes. 

"But Gendry I-," she swallows thickly and wipes the tears from her eyes. "I will never be a mother," she tells him seriously, "I will never be able to give you what you need."

"You're what I need.” He pleads desperately. She smiles sadly and shakes her head before bringing his lips down to meet hers once again. 

This time when she takes him to the bed in the room behind the smithy, she puts all the things she cannot say with words into their bodies. Every movement of hers is so tender, Gendry feels like he's falling for her all over again. Time passes around them and they do not move away from their own personal haven. Outside these walls await the rest of the world and the truths they do their best to ignore, but inside feel they have as much time as they need and more. Gendry misses the council meeting. 

He is playing with her fingers while her head rests against his chest when she says it. 

"I need to go to Winterfell." He draws in a shuddering breath and his eyes turn glossy. 

He continues to play with her fingers in silence before finally asking, "Will you come back?" Back home to me? his heart cries. 

"I don't know” she answers. He slides down the cot until they are lying face to face, her hand still in his. 

"Can I write to you?" He asks hopefully. She heaves a sigh and her expression looks pinched. "I mean," he continues, "is it alright if I still ask for your council while you're away?"

She can hear his unspoken 'until you come back' but she can't bare to bring herself to ask him not to hope. She wishes she were that brave. 

"Of course." 

He blinks away the tears that threaten to fall from his eyes and places a kiss in the same place she kissed his hand all those nights ago in the tavern outside Storms End.

-

 

It doesn't take her and the Hound long to reach Winterfell. Three days traveling up the coast until they reached a dock more sedate than Storms End. One week on a ship until they reach White Harbour. Another week spent on horse back and then she's home. 

Only she finds it's not home anymore. The last time she was here it was overrun with the dead. She still has nightmares of them chasing her through the hallways she spent her childhood in. The rebuild, while thankfully not littered in dead bodies, had erased most of the things familiar about her old haunts on the grounds of Winterfell. Even the Godswoods memory is tainted by her final confrontation with the Night King. A week in she realizes that Gendry and Storms End feels more like home than the castle that holds her last memories of her family all together, whole and happy. Her heart aches. 

Her sister is grateful that she's come back at the urging of her letters and it isn't until her third night back she understands why. 

"Jon plans to abdicate the throne." Sansa tells her quietly. "It seems the dragon queen is with child." 

Arya is shocked. "Is it Jon's?" Her stomach twists at the thought. Only her siblings and the dragon queen know the true nature of their relationship to one another. Sansa clenches her jaw and gives her a short nod. Arya feels a wave a nausea overcome her before settling.

"He won't let the child grow up as a bastard, not even a royal one." Arya states out loud. "So he's abdicating the throne so that the North may remain free." Sansa nods her head again. "The throne will pass down to Bran." Arya finishes.

"Only Bran has told me it's not his place to wear a crown given his status as the Three-Eyed Raven so-" 

"So the crown passes to you." Arya's eyes are wide as she digest the news. "Well you always wanted to be Queen." She says.

Both sisters are quiet for a moment before they burst into laughter. This perhaps is one of the things she'd missed the most about Winterfell, even if it is a newfound occurrence. 

"When will he announce it?" She asks. 

"Within the month.” Sansa says. “He wants to marry the Queen before she gives birth. She's four moons in I believe." They sit quietly for moment letting the reality of the situation settle in. 

"Who will you appoint to be your hand?" Arya asks. 

"Gods I have no ideas." Sansa groans, fingers rubbing at her temples as if to stave off a headache. "If Lyanna Mormont had survived I'd give the position to her just to see the look on all those stuffy lords faces." Arya giggles before they fall silent once again, this time in memory of the fierce bear cub with a spine of steel. 

"I think I'll appoint Ser Poddrick as commander in my Queensguard." Sansa blushes prettily at the mention of Ser Poddrick and Arya fights the urge to roll her eyes. She'll tease her later but first, she has questions. 

"Not Ser Brienne?" Sansa shakes her head. 

"Brienne is the sole heir to the Tarth House. I'm thinking of relieving her of her duty as my sworn sword so she can return home." 

"Do you believe she'll continue her bloodline?" Arya asks doubtfully. Brienne always seemed like a type of kindred spirit to Arya and she assumed the lady knight and her held the same sentiments on the matter of marriage.

"She will if Jaime Lannister has anything to say about it." Sansa replies wickedly. 

Arya laughs. "What? Ser Brienne and the Kingslayer?" She gasps. "You have been holding back on all the best gossip dear sister. You must tell me everything at once."

Sansa laughs heartily, her face flushed and eyes sparkling. "Oh yes Arya I held all the best gossip hostage as incentive for you to return to Winterfell, you've caught me." She sends a wink to her sister that nearly has Arya soiling her small clothes. "Well let's see. Ser Jaime is nowhere near as pompous as he was when we were children.” 

“Perhaps Brienne beat it out off him.” Arya interjects. 

“Also,” Sansa continues, as if she was never interrupted, “he is utterly devoted to her and yet she cannot see it." 

"I simply can't believe it. This is something I must see first hand. Brienne of Tarth with Jaime Lannister wrapped around her finger and she unaware." 

"It is a delight to watch him try to charm her and she not give him the time of day. Of course she's half in love with him already but I think she's not quite yet prepared to admit that to herself." 

"You know what they say about weddings, they're contagious." 

Sansa snorts and takes a sip of her wine before leaning back in her chair. "Another letter came for you today from Storms End." Sansa tells her. When she arrived there were already two letter waiting for her from Gendry. Both were matters of state, both of them signed with 'I miss you'. 

"Thank you. I'll probably write to him tomorrow or maybe tonight depending if I can get any sleep." Sansa winces slightly. Arya isn't the only Stark who has nightmares about their childhood home. They pass the next few minutes in heavy silence. Arya stares into the fire, wondering idly if she'll see something like the Hound did sometimes. "Is there something you would like to say Sansa?" She questions her sister impatiently. 

Sansa only holds her wine goblet in her hands, staring at the cup instead of her sister. "I only wonder if the lord of Storms End has proposed to you." 

"And what makes you wonder that?" Arya squeezes out any trace of emotion in her voice.  
Sansa shrugs. "He writes to you frequently enough. May I ask the nature of the contents in these letters?" Arya didn’t answer for a long time, considering what she would reveal if she denied Sansa's request. 

"He writes to me about the state of Storms End and asks for my council." She holds her breath waiting for her sister to respond. 

"Curious. I wonder if that makes you the unofficial Lady of Storms End." She teases. Arya does not find it quite as funny. She thinks back to the day she left Storms End. 

She had been running all around the castle, retrieving last minute supplies for the journey when she came across two young cup bearers. "It's important that you keep quiet during the council meetings." the older one instructed the younger of the two, "You must especially stay quiet when Lady Baratheon is speaking. We don't want to distract her because she's the smartest." 

"Who are you talking about?" Arya asked in confusion. 

Both the children had jumped to attention at the sound of her voice. "Sorry milady we didn't know you were here." The older one apologizes. 

"Who were you talking about?" She asks again. "Who is Lady Baratheon?" 

The children had looked at each other with mild confusion. She waited there until the younger of the two answers, "That's you milady." Arya's stomach had dropped and she felt as if her heart would split in two. She’d walked away without another word to the small children. 

“Arya are you okay?” 

Arya blinks her eyes twice and gives her head a slight shake to come back fully to the present. “Actually I have a question to ask you.” She murmurs. 

“What is it?” Sansa asks concerned. 

“Is Poddrick as good in bed as Tyrion Lannister says he is?” She jests. Sansa is scandalized but Arya will say anything to escape the previous topic of conversation. 

“Arya Stark you are an absolute menace.”

-

“So I hear I'm going to be an aunt.” Arya says carefully towards her brother. She's not yet sure how he feels about the child he helped create. 

“Sansa could never keep a secret.” Jon scoffs. 

“Oh so your impending fatherhood is a secret even from your favorite sister.” She teases. 

“No it's my impending abdication that I'm trying to conceal. Unfortunately my impending fatherhood is tied to that.” He mutters quietly even if they are the only two around to hear. 

They had left the grounds of Winterfell early in the morning with Ghost and two horses under the guise of a hunting party. The each caught small critters in order to sell the excuse for the privacy they needed to discuss this matter. 

She looks over at her favorite brother and takes in all the ways he has changed over the years. She still thinks of them as mirrors of one another, with their dark Stark features and now with the scars scattered across the pair of them. She thinks of the scars on her sisters body left behind by enemies long gone and of Bran's broken legs. The world tried to get rid of the Stark children she thinks bitterly, and we all have the scars to prove it.

“It funny.” She says. “You never wanted any crown, only accepted the North's and declined the South's out of a sense of honor and duty. Now you're trading one for the other I suppose.” 

“Is that judgement I hear in your voice cousin?” 

Arya smacks the top of his head. 

“You just hit your king.” He states. 

“I'll do it again if my king ever refers to me as cousin again. You are my brother Jon and nothing will ever change that.” He looks properly chastised. “Why were you not more careful?” She asks.  
“It wasn't supposed to be possible.” He answers. 

“That's no excuse.” She retorts. Arya had no sympathy for the situation Jon found himself in because it reminded her slightly of her own, except she still bothered to drink moon tea. 

“I was thinking that I was leaving the woman I loved behind forever.” He bites back. “And I know how we are related to one another but I loved her before I knew about it and you can't just turn off those types of feelings like that Arya.” 

Her spine stiffens at the falsehood of his statement, remembering her time as a Faceless Men. “It was supposed to be our last time to be with one another.” he continued, “I sacrificed my love in order to lead my people, and she understood that, but she loved me too. It was supposed to be goodbye.” 

Arya was struck silent. She had no idea how deeply Jon felt for the Dragon Queen, neither had Sansa. He sat down at the base of a tree and ran his hand down his face. At that moment he looked so much like their father she wanted to cry. 

“The worst part of it all is that you are right. I never wanted this crown. And even though I'll still be king I'm just so happy the crown will be hers and not mine. For the first time in a very long time I'm doing something because it is what I want. I thank the Old Gods and the new that I was in the position to do that with as less pain as possible for everyone involved, but let me tell you something.” Jon's grey eyes sought out her own. 

“Even if everything wasn't aligned so perfectly that it would all work out, I still would have chosen Daenerys and our child. Does that make me a traitor?” Arya stepped off the path and crouches down to place her hand on his. “Believe me brother I know exactly how you feel.” 

-

She was sitting in the Godswood when her little brother approached her. “Hello Three-Eyed Raven.” She greets him without looking. 

“Hello Protector of the Realm.” Sandor wheels Bran closer until they are next to one another before leaving them alone in the Godswood. 

“Is this what you saw when we defeated the Night King? The Starks losing another one of our own” 

“It's one of many events that I saw.” He confirms. “I know you are upset but this is the way its suppose to be. The Starks belong in the North and the Targaryens belong on the Iron Throne right now.” 

“Jon is being selfish.” She spits out before exhaling a deep sigh. “But I think he's probably earned the right to be selfish at this point. I mean he was raised as a bastard despite being the true heir to the Iron Throne, he never knew the love of a mother, his first love died in his arms, then he found out the woman he was shagging is related to him.” She states dispassionately.  
“Don't forget he died as well.” Bran said quietly. 

Arya bit her lip to try and keep the smile off her face. If she didn't know any better, she would think Bran was making a joke. She glances at him from the corner of her eye to see the slightest upturn of his mouth. Before she can help herself she chuckles and shakes her head at the weirwood tree in front of her. 

“That's right Bran. Almost forgot about that.” They sit together in silence. 

“You know out of all the possibilities I have seen, I believe this one is one of Brandon Starks favorites.” 

“Oh yeah? Why's that.” 

He doesn't answer her for a while and she begins to think he never will, until he finally says. “It's the one where his remaining siblings are happy.” 

She nods her head. “Jon becomes a Stark, Sansa becomes Queen and the youngest Stark siblings return home after years of trying to find their way back. I suppose that's as happy as it could get.” She's careful to make sure her words don't sound bitter even if they taste that way in her mouth. 

“You and I both know you no longer consider Winterfell to be home in your heart.” Bran says softly. Arya stiffens in surprise. She tilts her head up but finds him not looking down at her but straight ahead.

She breathes deeply trying to calm her nerves. “I am a Stark. You said it yourself our place is in the North.” 

He nods his head. “Yes a Stark’s place is in the North, but a Baratheon's place is at Storms End.” 

“What you say is true but does not apply to me.” she replies tersely.

“You were right you know.” He continued as if she never spoke, “Gendry will be a husband and a father this time next year.” She gaps at him, shocked to hear her own words repeated back at her from a time long passed. She will never get used to her brother spouting off knowledge he should have no way of knowing. 

She clears her throat and tries to shake off her unease. “That's good for him. He deserves a family.” She chokes out. 

Bran smiles cryptically then says, “But you also got a bit wrong too. When you said you would never be a mother.” To this Arya has no reply, only stares blankly at her little brother.

“Men tend to have a distorted idea about what destiny means.” he tells her. “They think their fates are written in the stars, static, but it's true nature is actually a series of decisions leading up to an eventuality. The pen with which our stories are written lay within our own hands not the gods.” He turns his head and bores his eyes into hers, “Do you understand what I am telling you Arya?” She shakes her head. He makes no attempt to smile but his face seems to soften, his eyes lighter than she's seen since his return. “That's all right. It will reveal itself to you.” 

Arya stands and starts to make her way back to the castle, her head swimming when Bran calls out a final piece of advice. “Do try not to be too harsh on Jon, Arya. You're situations are… hilariously similar.”

-

It takes her a week to parse out Bran's meaning. Her biggest clue was Bran comparing the situation between Jon and herself because she recalled thinking something like that as they talked in the woods. The only difference was that I drank moon tea. Only she hasn't been. It was nearly two moons past since she drank the bitter drink. She hadn't needed to since she stopped going to Gendry's chambers at night. Arya paces the small space of her room. She's forgetting something she knows it. 

The forge, her mind whispers. She sits heavily on her bed, trying not to gasp for breath. Like the Dragon Queen, she too thought it was impossible for her to become with child. She had thought the damage the Waif had caused was too much. Still, she insisted on her extra measures of precaution, she was so careful! Until she wasn't. Arya needed to find out the truth but she could not trust the maester. She feared her condition, whichever way it goes, will be revealed to her older brother and sister. Arya left the castle grounds and walked into Wintertown. 

Despite all the losses they had suffered in the War of the Dawn the northern town was abuzz with activity. She walked swiftly with the hood of her cloak up and her head angled down until she reached her destination. The first thing she sees when she walks through the door is a drunk man with his face buried between a woman's breast. The bawdy laughters, and chaotic atmosphere swirled around Arya while she looked for someone who could help her. 

“Are you in the wrong place girl?” A voice says from beside her. She turns and sees a matriarchal figure with a low cut dress and her hair piled on top of her head. Arya spent enough time in brothels while in Bravos to recognize a madam when she sees one. 

Arya let's panic and desperation color her face. “I think I'm with child.” She changes her voice to make herself seem young and scared. The madam seemed like the type to sympathize. “I have money but I don't want to see a maester. Can you help?” The madam escorts her away from the patrons into a quiet room in the back. 

By the time Arya has found her way to the castle, everyone is asleep. She is too restless to attempt to join them. Her mind is racing with the start of a tentative plan forming in her head. She believes she know what she wants her next steps to be but there are things she wants to do first. She drifts through the halls and finds herself slipping into her sisters chambers. 

“Sansa.” Arya whispers from beside her. Her sister's eyes blink open almost instantaneously. It seems she's learned to be a light sleeper over the years.

“Arya what are you doing awake?” she mumbles with a sleep thick rasp. She yawns widely. “It’s late.” 

“I'm leaving and I wanted to say goodbye.” 

“What do you mean you're leaving you just got home.” Though she still spoke softly her eyes were becoming more alert with every passing second. 

Arya smiles sadly and shakes her head. “This isn't my home anymore.” 

“Of course it is.” Sansa pleads. 

Arya gives her sister a kiss on the cheek before whispering, “I'll be back for your coronation.” Then she slips back into the night before her sister can say another word. 

Next she finds Jon, his face planted in a book he'd fallen asleep reading. Ghost lays by his feet, his paws twitching every now and again. 

“Jon wake up. I have to go.” He sits up abruptly with a gasp, eyes moving wildly about their surroundings. 

“Go? What do you mean? Where are you going.” 

She hugs him and and places a kiss at the crown of his head. “Come visit me when you come South.” Then she's off again. 

She looks for Bran next but finds Sandor asleep in their library, embers glowing fully. 

“Clegane wake up.” She kicks his foot and with a snort he wakes up and glares at her. 

“What the fuck do you want?” He growls with his voice filled with venom. 

“Get up. We're leaving.” 

He scowls at her. “It's the middle of the fucking night you fucking idiot. Where are we going.”  
“Storms End. I want to go home now.” He rolls his eyes before closing them once more. “Hurry up we leave in an hour.” The Hound spits out more profanity directed at her but rises from his slumber nonetheless. 

She finds her little brother in the great hall staring into the lit fireplace. “Hey.” She waits until he acknowledges her presence with a mere glance before continuing. “You're a good brother. Even if you are all weird now.” She teases on a whim. She gives him a hug from behind, pressing her cheek against his, then places a kiss at his temple. 

As she walks away he tells her, “Goodbye Lady Baratheon.” She snorts as she continues to walk away without turning back. 

“Don't get ahead of yourself Three-Eyed Raven” 

“I'll try not to,” he says quietly, “Protector of the Realm.”

-

“Gendry wake up.” 

He opens his eyes to the blue pre dawn light filtering through his open window into his chambers. He blinks a couple of times, convinced he must be dreaming because Arya is lying on his bed, fully clothed. When she caresses his face he smiles. 

“Arya.” He breathes. “You're here.” She continues to stroke his cheek while wearing the most peaceful smile on her face. 

“I wanted to come home.” His smile grows three times bigger and he's sure he looks like a dope but Gendry can't find it in himself to care. 

“You didn't tell me you were coming back.” He whispers. “I sent a letter to Winterfell yesterday. I missed you.”

“I'm here now.” 

He sighs contentedly and pulls her closer to him before shutting his eyes again. For a few moments they lay together in silence the only sound coming from the ocean and birds calls from outside. He's nearly asleep again when he feels her slip away from his grasp. 

“No don't go.” He moans, eyes shut stubbornly. 

“Gendry will you meet me at the Godswood?” He opens one eye to find her perched on the edge of his bed, one leg tucked under the other. 

“Right now?” She nods her head. “Okay?” She smiles and jumps up and out of his door. Gendry lays still for a second before she returns to his doorway. 

“Bring a cloak.” She says. “It's a bit nippy outside and your southern blood is thin.” Arya sends him a teasing smile before leaving once again. He rolls his eyes and chuckles before rising from his bed to put on proper clothes. 

The wind blew cold off the ocean but Gendry didn't mind. It was nice of Arya to tell him to bring his cloak. The castle and its grounds were still quiet for the most part, the only activity he'd come across so far being the kitchens. The walk down to the Godswood was pleasant enough with the air smelling of brine and the ocean and seagulls singing their own harmony. It was relaxing. 

When he found Arya in front of a weirwood tree she had her backed turn to him and her gaze fixed upon her hands. When he came closer he saw that she had two flower crowns, one placed on her head the other in her hands. 

“What's this?” He asks. She smiles beautifully and she tells him she made one for him. “I didn't take that long did I?” He japes lightly. She shakes her head and make him lean down so she can place the crown upon his head. The flowers were yellow, almost golden. He thanked her for his beautiful present. She pulls him down once again but this time for a kiss.

“Gendry Baratheon you are mine.” 

“I'm yours milady.” He repeats against her lips. 

She smiles again and looks down, biting her lip before returning her gaze back to his. “And I, Arya Stark am yours.” He felt as if his grin would split his face in half. 

“You are mine.” He repeats again. 

“I promise no matter what I'll always protect you Gendry.” 

“I know Arya, there's no one else I'd rather do it. You're really good at protecting in case you've forgotten.” They chuckle and rub their cold noses together. 

“I hope you know the same goes for me. I'd go to the ends of the world to protect you Arya.”  
She nods her head against his. “I know Gendry.” They kiss once more before she pulls back and faces them towards the weirwood tree, her hand in his. 

They stand together quietly for a time before she speaks up again. “Gendry I'm cold.” She states. He chuckles and removes his cloak from himself and placing it around shoulders. 

“Who has thin blood now?” He teases. She pecks his lips in thanks and returns her focus to the weirwood. After some amount of time she wordlessly turns away and begins to walk him out of the godswood. 

When the reach the entrance she turns to him and says, “I'd like for you to take me to bed now Lord Baratheon.” He smiles and tugs her forward until she's flush against him. 

“As my lady commands.” 

As the sun rises above the horizon, struggling to break through the thick clouds of morning, and the castle wakes up around them, Lord Baratheon makes love to the Lady of Storms End for the first time.


End file.
